Wanderlust
by Florb26
Summary: - AU in which Dan and Phil are two of the few survivors of a plague which has killed everyone they know. - Phan - Could be M later but a safe T for now - Proofread but Tumblr user assbutts-were-meant-to-fly - First published on Tumblr by me (Tumblr user csi-howell) -
1. Chapter 1

Dan wakes up first, but not because of the cold spring air or the soft orange-yellow glow that is seeping through the curtains of their apartment. It's because of the small sobs that Phil is releasing whilst cradled in Dan's arms. Dan shuffles under the covers slightly before stroking his fingers over Phil's cheek, wiping away the glistening tear drops that are coating them. He continues to do so, softly whispering Phil's name into the cold air until the sobs subside and Phil's eyes slowly open, painfully red and sore looking, from both the early awakening and earlier nightmare.

Sometimes Dan wonders what life would be like now if there hadn't been a plague. If everyone hadn't suddenly started dropping dead in a most literal sense around them within weeks. Would he and Phil still have the radio show? How many subscribers would they have reached in the end? But they're just tiny questions that in the context of their life now really mean nothing. They shouldn't have meant anything back then either but they did. Sometimes Dan wonders about other things too, like would they be together, sleeping in the same bed, waking up in each other's arms? Because as everyone else started to drop dead around them, Dan had decided to tell Phil what he had been feeling before it was too late. Phil had looked at him that day, tears streaming down his face as a consequence of the events occurring around them, and he'd promised Dan that he'd never leave his side again. Through some miracle, if you could call it that, both he and Dan were immune. Anyone who wasn't was dead by now. Phil was still at Dan's side, Dan at Phil's.

Phil glances up at Dan's face and watches him think, wishing he knew what was going on in his head. He rubs at his eyes in an attempt to remove the sleep that has gathered over them, as well as the stickiness from his earlier tears. He can't even remember what he was dreaming about, but he always wakes up like this, and he wakes Dan up too. A rush of guilt surges through him and he hugs Dan a little more tightly, desperate to feel his warmth for a while. Dan returns the hug, wrapping his arms around Phil, their legs tangling together. They could lie like this all day if they wanted. No longer are there requirements for them to do anything, or get up at a certain time. It's led to Dan simply following the patterns of the sun, since whilst it's down there's too little light to allow visibility in their apartment unless they burn candles, and unless its an emergency they're not needed it's a waste of something they could trade for food.

And it isn't doom and gloom at all really. Living in London probably did them some favours for this situation. Firstly, there's always plenty of food, and anything else useful because there are so many abandoned houses to raid. Phil doesn't agree with taking things from houses, but Dan does most of the work anyway. Besides, they have to if they want to eat. Surely the dead can understand that. Dan tries to tell Phil that every time they bust open a door. More so than that, however, is that there's a community of survivors. There's no kind of government any longer so it's all very 'every man for himself', but everyone tries to help each other out whenever it's possible. There's always a spare bed somewhere.

Phil realised very soon that many of the people they meet have lost loved ones, and are somewhat jealous of he and Dan. It makes Phil feel even more grateful to whatever God allowed him to have Dan. He's sure he wouldn't be survive for a moment without him.

Every other day, a group of around thirty meet together at a small park about an hour by foot from Dan and Phil's apartment. Some people have to walk further, but it's worth it because they can trade supplies and any tiny bits of news which get through- although those are few and far between. It's certainly a very different way of life to the one they'd had for the past twenty or so years of their lives, but it could be so much worse.

Dan doesn't awaken with a smile, given, but he does realise his sense of security and hope the more that he wakes up. It doesn't look like it'll rain today, which is good because they haven't been to the market for almost a week and they've collected lots of things they can trade. Dan remembers how the day before yesterday they were in a small terraced house, and in one of the upstairs rooms whilst looking for batteries, Phil had stumbled across a Polaroid camera. Once they'd gathered everything of use, they'd gone down to a nearby garden and taken photos of each other in the flowers. Maybe it had been a waste of something incredibly valuable, but neither of them cared, because it was the most fun they'd had in ages. They both had a renewed sense of being alive, you could say. The pictures they'd taken were the most amazing thing that they'd ever seen. The most important possessions that they had now.

"How are you feeling now?" Dan asks softly, stroking the slowly fading ebony hair of his companion. There are a few birds singing outside, the wildlife thriving more now that there are barely any people left to disrupt it.

"I'm okay." Phil answers. He isn't as positive as Dan, and he wants his old life back more than anything else. He misses his family and his friends and sometimes he even gets upset because his fans are dead, and not in the vain sense, simply because he cared about all of them when they were alive and now he can't do anything to help them at all. Dan gets upset about these things too, but always pushes it to the back of his mind, because his period of depression taught him one thing and that is to live for the now. Even under these circumstances, Dan follows his nineteen year old self's advice, and he continues to live for the now. Not the yesterday and not the tomorrow, because he can't control those.

"Okay." Dan replies simply, because there isn't much to be said really. "You still want to go to the market?"

Phil contemplates his answer for a moment, slowly rubbing his hand over Dan's bare chest. "Yeah. We should, anyway, Esther'll worry if we don't go anyway, right?"

Esther was probably the strangest thing to come of everything that had happened. She was in her late forties, short and chubby with short brown hair. Before the plague had struck, she had had two sons, one of whom had had a pregnant girlfriend. She'd lost her whole family, but even though that had happened she still somehow managed to remain positive. She constantly wore a smile on her face- the sort that could help you through even if you were having the worst day possible.

The first time she met the two boys, they'd been walking for hours trying to find out if anyone they knew was still alive, the rain pouring down on top of them and soaking them to the bone, chills running through their arms. She'd taken them into her house, which was small and cramped, and offered the pair of them somewhere to stay for the night. They'd sat down in front of an open fireplace which by some miracle hadn't been removed, and eaten a bowl of warm tomato soup each, simultaneously sharing their respective stories. The next morning, they awoke in a room they didn't recognise, smoke lingering and making their still slightly damp hair smell of woodsmoke. And really, they knew that they'd woken up to a world with no one else that they knew, but they'd also awoken in a place where someone else cared about them.

Dan smiles at the thought of Esther and her worrying about everyone around her, and really it's just because she cares. He thinks that if his mum was still around, she'd be pleased that Esther was looking out for him, and Phil too.

Dan is thinking about what he's going to wear now, for warmth though, and practicality- not so that he can look good. He's ready to get up and get going with his day, at a calm pace, of course. He doesn't move though, because Phil is still clinging to him and Dan realises that he probably needs the comfort.

"Yeah." Dan responds, quietly. "She will." Slowly, Dan takes a hold of Phil's head and gives him a short peck on his forehead, but before he can move away Phil has taken his head and their lips have met. It isn't as romantic as it could be, since it's cold enough to give them both goose bumps around their arms and they're both hungry, as they have been for months now. The dull ache isn't as strong or prominent as it used to be, but it hasn't gone either. It lingers, like the memory of when food was something they didn't have to worry about. The moment doesn't mean nothing either, of course, but things probably would've been different under different circumstances.

Dan slides across the bed, unfurling the covers as he does so. Phil whimpers a little but quickly drags the sheets over himself, creating a small cocoon, which admittedly keeps the heat in and the cold out pretty well. Dan watches as Phil tries to fall asleep again, his eyelids fluttering ever so slightly until they finally rest, and his face falls almost contentedly flat. It breaks Dan a little inside to know that Phil won't be awoken by anything other than his bad dreams, but at least he is able to sleep whenever he wants; a luxury Dan seems to have lost since for some reason he ended up simply following the patterns of the sun.

Taking quiet steps, Dan pads across the wooden floor and peers out of the blinds for a moment. There's a small wave of coolness from the smeared glass window, but nothing of any comparison to the slightly chilled air of the unheated bedroom. Nothing has changed; nothing at all from yesterday; or the day before that; last week; last month. There are still the same trees with leaves which are slowly becoming more green and bushier, and the same cars in the same places which are never going to go anywhere again now. Some of them are beginning to mould inside, seatbelts showing the signs of disuse as the bacteria starts to grow freely on them. It's sobering, you could say, because once those cars would have been used for commutes every single day, and now there isn't anyone here to touch them. Of course, the fuel has been taken from all of them, and Dan figures it's either been used, or it's being stockpiled as it becomes more and more valuable. He and Phil often talk about whether they should've prepared more for the future in that sense, when things started going wrong, but they soon realise that they can't afford to have regrets now.

Dan chooses the cleanest shirt he has to wear today, and there's no real reason other than the fact he doesn't really want to smell when he doesn't have to. It's black, and much like the sort of tees that he used to wear constantly, only this one isn't his- it came from a house that he and Phil went through weeks ago. He sprays himself with the almost finished can of deodorant that they've been sharing for the past few weeks, before pulling on one of his older leather jackets. This one really is his- he bought it with his own money and somehow now he feels proud of himself for that. He's pretty glad to have it, since it's the warmest thing he has aside from jumpers, and those weigh him down and make it uncomfortable and awkward to walk. Calmly, he pulls on a pair of black skinny jeans, although these aren't his own either, and wanders off towards the balcony.

Two hours and even more hugs later, and Dan and Phil are walking down an empty road, the same road that they'd once had to walk on the way to Broadcasting House. Dan has one hand in his pocket, the other hand fingers entwined with Phil's. The day isn't warm, it's a spring morning and this is London, but the small breeze does bring some warmth from the sun and besides, they've both worn enough clothes to keep their own body heat with them as they walk on their tired feet.

They've been walking for around forty-five minutes now, Phil estimates. They don't say much, aside from the odd comment on something they notice. Dan tells a joke, but Phil doesn't laugh, he just lets out a longer breath than usual. It probably isn't because he's laughing either, simply because he's got a lot of sadness within himself that he hasn't really released and the joke reminds him of that. Dan knows that's going to happen, eventually, an inevitable breakdown, an opening of floodgates, and it's a worry he carries around on his shoulders everyday. Nothing else happens on their long walk - they don't see anyone at all and they don't bother to look in any other houses since they've already got a full rucksack on each other their backs.

A small piece of foil blows in front of them, and Phil stops to pause and look at it for a moment, wondering where it's come from. The matted metallic paper reflects the light from above them and Phil places his foot atop of it for a moment to keep it from blowing away. It isn't anything unusual to see litter blowing around, since it hasn't been a priority for anyone to clear it up, but this is paper. Anything paper has been washed away by rain by now. Which means that someone has been around here since yesterday, because that was the last time it rained, and nothing will have had time to dry out since then.

Phil glances up at Dan, a hint of confusion in his eyes. Dan has the same look on his face, mouth slightly agape, because although it's a tiny piece of paper, it means more than that. Dan loosens his grip on Phil's hand, giving it a short squeeze first. He bends down, picking up the tiny piece of rubbish from the ground as Phil removes his trainer from above it. Dan looks at it for a moment, picking his body up again so that his spine is straight again. Phil's eyes are open a little wider than usual, and they are surveying the street around them, looking into the windows of the white bricked houses in order to see if there's any movement within them. Dan slips the wrapper into his pocket.

"Let's just go, yeah?" He asks Phil, turning around so that he is facing him, but they don't return to holding hands because they're both too on edge. Really, it shouldn't mean anything, and it could even be someone walking to the exact same place that they're both headed, but something feels wrong. Everyone who they've met so far has seemed to be respectful enough not to leave any trace of themselves behind aside from the red cross on a raided house.

The silence is almost overwhelming, and all that can be heard is the four paced shuffle of their feet along the concrete pavement, occasionally altering as they move lightly to avoid things or they tread on the weeds that have started to make their way through the hard footpath. Dan reaches out to grab Phil's hand, but suddenly all of the crows in the tree behind them rise up, wings flapping urgently and danger calls echoing around the small square. Phil freezes in an instant, but Dan turns, heels leaving small rubber mark on the pavement below. He does so soon enough to see a figure lunging straight towards them at full speed.

Phil is knocked to the ground instantly, but Dan isn't and he watches as the man wrestles Phil to the ground. His face is covered and Dan can tell instantly that he certainly isn't someone who goes to the market, because none of them would do this. Dan shouts at him, telling him to get away from Phil, but he doesn't listen and instead begins to force the straps of Phil's rucksack away from his arms. Dan realises what's happening instantly and decides to run straight at the him. Phil is already injured, and Dan can see that grazes on his wrist are already starting to bleed, so he decides that there isn't anything left to lose.

Things go black and although Dan knew what he was doing just before and moments afterwards, his brain somehow loses the moments in between in some kind of puddle of confusion and pain. By the time Dan realises what has happened, he's being woken up by the feeling of raindrops on his face. His eyes are stinging, they feel tired. He's lying on the pavement now, and his face is aching which probably means it was punched, or kicked, and it probably feels worse because he doesn't even know what injury he's sustained. More pressingly, though, both of their rucksacks are empty and lying a few metres away, odd belongings strewn across the road. So is Phil.

Dan looks over and sees Phil lying there crying. For a moment he doesn't realise what Phil is holding, but when he does it breaks his heart. Phil is clutching onto two of the pictures they'd taken those few days ago. It takes a moment for his brain to register it but soon Dan realises that they were in the rucksacks and now those that they've got left are getting damp and there isn't anything to be done. Sitting up, he shuffles awkwardly over to Phil, creating a small scraping sound as the buttons on his jeans scratch against the cheap concrete paving stones. The grey from the clouds is surrounding them, engulfing everything in an unpleasant humid air which in this situation seems suffocating.

"Oh Phil, I'm so sorry." Dan whispers, before reaching and pulling Phil's head into his lap as he continues to sob, small cries that are barely audible over the sounds of the patters on the rooftops and the leaves and the ground around them.

"I'm so scared Dan."


	2. Chapter 2

They sit there under the rain for a seemingly endless amount of time. Once, they would've had a sense of time passing, the cars and the people surrounding them and the buses and transport that followed a strict timetable. Now, there was none of that, and there was simply the sound of the rain that was slowly descending around them, settling in small puddles on the worn ground.

Phil has stopped crying, and Dan has stopped shaking from the pain and fear, although that sensation is now being replaced with shivering from the cold that's seeping into his legs through the denim of his jeans. The chilling water is pouring onto every unprotected part of them, hands, faces, and now both of them now have damp hair surrounding their empty features. Once, Dan had hated having his hair grown out and uncut: he'd complained and he'd given it a nickname, but now he was stuck with it he realised that really it wasn't such a bad thing afterall. If they met someone who could cut hair he'd try and get it sorted out, provided it wasn't expensive, but really, did it matter? No, he realises now. It didn't, and it doesn't. Because the way that Dan looks, and they way that other people see him as looking, isn't important at all provided there's still oxygen in his lungs.

Dan is clutching tightly onto Phil as if he is some kind of lifeline, if he lets go he'll have nothing. After today's incident, that's worryingly closer to the truth. Phil has his hand locked around Dan's arm, and he's thinking. He's thinking so much and about things that he doesn't want to be thinking about, but his brain won't shut up. His face scrunches up, eyes beginning to release a small ache as he presses their lids together harder and harder. Once again, Phil is having a battle with himself.

Dan is the first one to speak again, and this time it's not simple phrases in an attempt to calm Phil back to normality. "We should go." He states, and really it's an obvious statement, but it's one he makes anyway because neither of them have taken any steps towards it as of yet. Phil doesn't move. Dan decides that whether Phil wants to or not, they are going to move, because they can't stay here forever. He slowly pulls Phil up so that he is sitting, and carefully wipes the tear drops away from underneath his delicate eyelashes. Phil harshly blinks a few times before looking wide eyed towards Dan. This is the closest he's ever come to being broken, and he's so fragile. If it weren't for the fact that Esther was closer, Dan would've been prepared to carry Phil all the way home.

"Come on, Phil. Please." Dan shifts himself upwards and stands up, brushing a little dirt away from his legs, however it seems pointless as they're so damp it continues to stick to the fabric. The rain has yet to show any sign of letting up, and it occurs to Dan that there could be a storm seeing how warm it was earlier. Instantly, he becomes wary of this happening. Phil is already shaken up, and being outside mid way through a thunderstorm is in no way going to make the situation better.

There are still a few things on the ground of theirs, admittedly damp and damaged, but still there. Both rucksacks, although at this point it seems pointless to collect them both. Besides, they're waterlogged and that'll only aid to make them heavier. There's also a tin of peaches, somehow slightly dented. That isn't an issue, of course, but it will be if the can has split open at all. When he picks it up, Dan discovers no sticky residue on it, and he really hopes that means it hasn't been damaged. There's nothing distinct or obvious, that has to be a good sign, he supposes. He walks to the other side of the streets, glistening footprints left in his wake for seconds until they fade away into the new rain. He picks up an unopened bottle of water, a few pens which were in a packet last time he'd seen them, and a UHT milk carton. They'd had two rucksacks full on the way here and now this was all they had. It was pitiful, and it felt useless. How had Dan let this happen? Why didn't he try harder to protect what they had, to look after Phil? He stops himself from thinking though. No regretting things. It's a mental rule and he's still sticking to it no matter what.

He chucks their few belongings into the bag and strides back over to Phil. He's stood up now and Dan pulls him into a hug. It's uncomfortable because they're both sodden and chilled to the bone by the damp that's sticking unbearably close to their arms and legs. It's a hug nonetheless and inevitably they both take a little comfort from it. They're both alive and healthy. That's the most important thing.

Slipping the bag onto his arm, Dan takes Phil's hand into his and squeezes it tightly as they begin walking again. It seems strange, that they could spend so long in the middle of a street and not see anyone, but that is how things are now. That's their new normal.

The rest of the trip is in silence, but they're still holding hands. It seems slower than usual, and it probably is. Dan's face still aches heavily and although he hasn't looked in a reflection at all, he's sure that there must be a bruise by now. They're both suffering from having damp clothing, and by the time they arrive at the small park they can barely feel their limbs.

They're here too late for anyone else to really be here. Most people have started on their way home, or to wherever they're sleeping if home isn't what they refer to it as. But, there are luckily still a few people here, and one of those people is Esther.

She smiles as the boys approach her slowly, but its slightly hesitant, as if she is already able to sense that something bad has happened. She looks over towards Phil, who is standing a little behind Dan, cowering, his head held low and chills running through his body. Dan doesn't look that much better really, but his face is still holding some kind of expression.

"What happened?" She is very much straight to the point, and is it a surprise really? She knows these boys well enough now to read them like books, and besides, she's one of those people who's able to be pretty accurate with emotions when she's only met someone moments before.

Dan shrugs a little. "There was some guy. He took everything. We both got knocked out." There isn't much to be told, truthfully, so Dan doesn't add anything else. Besides, his memory of those missing moments is yet to return and although Phil is his main priority, he'd be pretty pleased to have those back too. Stepping back a little, Dan casually slips his hand into Phil's. It's subtle, and is clearly for Phil, not an attempt to display any emotion to anyone else around them.

In an instant there are a mix of emotions displayed on Esther's face. They mainly range from shock to pity. Dan doesn't want that. Dan doesn't need that. Perhaps it flares something inside him, so he speaks up again. "Could we just, go inside or something?" Dan inquires, seeing as Esther is yet to say a word on the topic.

"Yes." There's a pause: she's thinking. "Yes! Go inside, make yourselves at home. You've got some clothes in the spare room haven't you? I'll be there soon, okay boys?" She's making some wild gestures with her hands now. That's what Dan wants; the normal, is everything alright for you Esther. Pitying Esther doesn't seem right.

Phil gives her a grateful look, although it isn't a particularly cheerful one. It's the sort when you know you're taking something out of necessity. It's almost a little crushing to think that now, that's really what they're doing. They're really going to have to borrow things from Esther because they have to. Not just because they happen to be staying the night because the weather is bad and they haven't had the chance to catch up for a while.

Without a word between the two of them, because no words are needed, Dan and Phil begin to make their way to Esther's house. Dan turns around as he reaches the gate. Esther is standing there, watching them walk away as if they are children on their way to school. He waves his hand a little above his waist. "Thanks." It's not a shout, but his voice is raised a little over the sound of the raindrops that are still continuing to engulf everything that's surrounding them. She nods her head in reply, her short bob blowing slightly as a frozen breeze passes through the air.

Dan's priorities are changing every moment, you could say, and it's a primitive way of adapting to what could quite easily be a dangerous way of life. He's constantly analysing every situation he and Phil find themselves in. And right now, his priority is getting warm. They're going to end up ill very soon. That could be fatal.

* * *

About an hour later, and they're at Esther's house, somewhat drier and maybe a little less shaken. Esther came back from the market earlier than usual and Dan feels a little bad about that since he knows she's only there to look after him and Phil.

The two of them are on the sofa in front of the fire, Dan lying on the sofa itself and Phil tucked behind him so that they're snuggling close together. This isn't the best sofa for this, admittedly, but there's a fire here: a luxury that Dan and Phil don't have in their flat. The warmth from the fire is sinking into them, only serving to warm them up. Their clothes are dry - they've changed, but the dampness is still on their skin and it feels like it's in their bodies too.

Phil runs a hand gently through Dan's hair. It's still very damp and a little messy, so the movement becomes more jerky as he reaches the end.

"How're you feeling now?" Dan asks, feeling himself relax more into the contact that Phil is currently giving him.

"Okay." Phil replies. He doesn't sound dead like he did earlier, and Dan is glad for that.

Esther is making herself busy in the kitchen, by the sounds of the constant clattering. Both Dan and Phil are looking forward to some kind of food, and although he's too hungry to have preferences really, Dan thinks he'd probably appreciate something hot even more now. Esther surely can't be that warm either, seeing as she's been out at the market all day.

Dan thinks that Phil has nothing else to say, but he takes him by surprise when he speaks again. "Are you happy Dan?"

"What?" He shuffles a little to turn over, so that he can see Phil's face.

"Are you happy, here?"

"I guess, maybe. I don't know." Dan sighs.

"Maybe we should leave?" Phil's voice is hesitant and unsure.

"Do you want to leave?" Dan questions. He isn't going to rule out the idea, especially not if it's something that Phil wants.

"Sort of. We've been here since all of this started and maybe it's time to move on, you know? Whether we try and admit it or not, we're only trying to live in the past here Dan."

Dan nods in agreement. He knows Phil is right. It may be impractical, but they're still living in the same apartment as they were before everything disappeared and turned to ruins. It was a great place to live before, it was a good distance from the city centre and work too, and it was spacious enough for filming, but really, now, it didn't need to be any of those things. It was a long distance from the nearest market as well as other people, and right now they didn't really have any suitable form of transport for travelling these distances other than their own two feet.

"I don't mind it here though." Phil adds, making sure that Dan realises he isn't trying to pressure him into doing anything. Really, he's just okay here, but maybe he can do better than 'just okay'.

"No. You're right Phil. You're really, really right." Dan smiles at Phil, before giving him a quick kiss on his cheek. "Where do you want to go first?"

Phil is smiling now, his eyes are lit up by the flames but also by his expression of joy. Dan thinks he looks beautiful. Phil just feels, well, somewhat elated at the thought of a change in scenery.

"I don't know." He replies, a newfound softness in his voice. "What about you?"

Dan looks into the distance for a while, thinking. There are so many places they could go, really. They wouldn't be the same as they were last time he saw them, that is something that they can take for granted, but they'll still be similar, surely. "Somewhere that isn't this city." Is all that Dan can come up with for now.

Phil nods in agreement as Esther walks into the room. They both start to shuffle around so that they're no longer lying on the sofa but instead sitting. It only seems polite, and besides, they can't eat lying next to each other.

"You two both look a bit cheerier now." She comments, Dan smiles in return. She takes a seat opposite them both. "Why's that then? I heard you talking in there." She waves a hand casually towards the kitchen and for a moment Dan holds a worried look on his face. He turns to face Phil. Phil looks equally a little worried. Esther is the closest thing that the pair have to any kind of family right now and they know that it's the same from her perspective. Leaving is going to be hard for all the parties involved here.

"We were just thinking..." Dan begins to mumble.

"We were thinking maybe we should leave. London, I mean." Phil laughs a little too awkwardly, but Esther isn't saying anything and they both become tense.

"Oh." Is all that Esther has to offer in response. Outside, the rain has yet to hold up, constantly trickling down the windows, then hitting more violently every so often as a gush of wind pushes the sheets forward every few seconds. There's occasionally a sound which resembles rolls of thunder. "How long have you been thinking about it then?"

Dan leans forward and lets out a small breath. "We haven't really thought about it much, I guess. We just thought..." Dan isn't entirely sure what he's trying to say but Esther seems to understand and nods her head.

"Don't worry my loves, I'm glad you've decided on actually doing something." Dan throws her a confused glance and Phil's face scrunches up a little as he tries to decipher what she's trying to imply. "You've been sitting around doing, well, nothing for weeks. I'd already worked out you'd want to leave at some point you know."

Phil smiles a little at Esther, and allows another small laugh to escape his lips. "I suppose so. We won't be leaving straight away though, I guess?" Phil throws a glance towards Dan for conformation who tips his head in response. Besides, if Phil doesn't want to go straight away - Dan doesn't want to either.

"Well I'm glad that you've told me." Esther pushes herself out of the seat and begins to walk towards the door to the kitchen. "Now, what can I get you boys to eat? Tomato soup?"

"That sounds good." Dan smiles.

"Thanks Esther. For everything you've done."

Esther smiles. Dan and Phil smile too.

"It's fine."

* * *

**A/N:** Sorry that this took so long! I'm genuinely going through a really, really crap time right now but yeah, I did get around to this yay points for me.

Please rate/review etc and yeah I hope you enjoyed! :o)

Flora-Edith xoxo


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